


An Assortment of Peter Parker Oneshots

by 0verly_0bsessed



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bittersweet Ending, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Crushes, Drabble Collection, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Feelings Realization, Ficlet Collection, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Heroes & Heroines, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Love Confessions, Multi, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Pining, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Peter Parker, Reader-Insert, Requited Unrequited Love, Romance, Sad Ending, Sloppy Makeouts, Slow Burn, Team as Family, Teen Romance, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2020-06-29 06:43:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19824667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0verly_0bsessed/pseuds/0verly_0bsessed
Summary: An amalgamation of all my Peter Parker oneshots. Requests are open and encouraged.





	1. I'm Sorry

**Author's Note:**

> An angsty oneshot where Reader dies instead of Tony in Endgame.

It was the moment everyone had been waiting for, five years of grief and hard work had led up to this moment.

And when Dr. Strange’s portals opened up, revealing everyone who Y/N had once mourned, they couldn’t hold in a loud shout of triumph.

They walked up beside Steve, returning a small smile as they both enjoyed the small victory that was bringing everyone back. The large army gathered behind them as they prepared for the climatic battle against Thanos’ forces.

“Avengers!” Steve shouted, gaining the attention of everyone before dropping his voice to a gravelly whisper, “assemble.”

They all began to sprint towards Thanos’ monstrous army, and for a single second Y/N felt no fear. Until they crashed into one of Thanos’–things–and panic flooded through them once more.

The creature scratched and bit at Y/N, if it weren’t for the suit gifted to them by their dad, it would’ve gutted them. They blasted the creature away with a beam of pure energy, simultaneously burning a hole in its chest. They could handle this.

The next few minutes were one of the most confusing ones in Y/N’s life. Y/N would defeat swarms of soldiers, only for even more to take their place.

After defeating one particularly troublesome enemy, Y/N looked up. A familiar figure was swinging through the sky. Clutching the iron gauntlet to his chest as he navigated the battlefield.

Peter.

Even just a glimpse of their boyfriend sent their heart pounding.

Had it really been five years since the events on Titan? Since Peter had dissolved in their arms after a tearful goodbye? It almost seemed like yesterday that they were floating through space in the Guardians ship, about to die in their dads arms. Thank God for Captain Marvel.

Suddenly, Thanos’ warship opened fire, and all thoughts except survival fled their mind.

Dodging each blue blast, with a little help from their personal AI, Y/N flew over to Peter. Where he was currently being overwhelmed by Thanos’ forces, his robotic limbs trying desperately to keep them at bay.

“Heads up!” They shouted as they flew by, alerting him to an opening.

He fired a web at them, allowing himself to be dragged away from the horde.

Y/N grabbed him by the arm and yelled, “get ready!” before tossing him over to Valkyrie, where he then mounted her pegasus, he quickly greeted Valkyrie before being brought right back into battle.

For a split second Y/N was relieved, he was safe for just a moment. That was until the pegasus was shot out the air, sending Peter plummeting to the ground. He managed to hold on to the gauntlet, but before he could regain his bearings, he was being pummeled by the missiles.

“Peter!” Y/N cried, running over to him as he curled into the fetal position, trying to protect himself. They dragged him into cover, activating their shield in order to protect them both from the projectiles.

The firing suddenly ceased. The loud crashes and screams quieted down as the cannons pivoted, firing off into the clouds.

Captain Marvel’s all too familiar orange glow flew out from the cloud cover, completely ignoring the missiles as she rapidly approached the warship.

She crashed right through Thanos’ impeding ship, causing it to collapse into the battlefield.

She glided over to the pair, eyeing the gauntlet that Peter was clutching to his chest.

“H-hi, I’m-I’m Peter Parker,” he introduced shakily, still holding onto the gauntlet.

“Hey, Peter Parker,” Carol answered, smirking slightly, “you got something for me?”

“I don’t know how you’re going to get through all of that,” he mumbled, fully taking in the size of Thanos’ army as he handed her the gauntlet.

“Don’t worry,” Scarlet Witch began, stepping up beside her.

“She’s got help,” Okoye finished as the universe’s most powerful women stood beside her.

Y/N watched in awe as the group plunged right into battle, easily forging a path for Carol as she tried to get the gauntlet to the van.

“I missed you,” Y/N said to Peter, grasping Peter’s hand as they rested.

“It’s good to be back,” he answered, squeezing Y/N’s hand affectionately.

Y/N gazed into Peter’s eyes, before being shocked back into battle. They looked away from Peter in time to catch what happened next.

Carol was almost to the van, but right before she was able to send the gauntlet back in time, Thanos threw his weapon at the machine. Completely destroying it.

A shockwave resonated throughout the area, sending everyone flying backwards. Y/N grabbed onto Peter, refusing to let them separate.

Y/N watched in horror as the rest of the Avengers tried to keep Thanos away from the glove. 

Their dad reacted first, but soon got knocked away. 

Thor, dual wielding Mjolnr and Stormbreaker, managed to keep him down with the help of Steve. But they too were shaken off. 

Carol attacked last, managing to get a few punches in before being thrown away.

Thanos picked up the gauntlet, and slid it on. He ultimate power was in his grasp once again. He posed his thumb and middle finger, about to snap.

Carol leapt into action, single handedly preventing Thanos from destroying the universe, glaring up at him as he fruitlessly tried to knock her aside. She managed to gain the upper hand, pushing him down to the ground.

Just as it looked like she had won, Thanos grabbed the power stone in his left hand and punched her, sending her hurtling across the battlefield.

Y/N watched as their father slowly sat up, gazing at something in the distance. They followed his line of sight to Dr. Strange. He was holding back the almost endless flood of water, and as his gaze connected with Tony’s, he held up one shaking finger.

Y/N knew exactly what he meant, they wouldn’t allow it.

They turned and planted a quick kiss on Peter’s lips, the first in five long years, before launching themselves at Thanos. Not even allowing their father time to act.

They fought Thanos for the glove in a sick game of tug-of-war, before being effortlessly pushed aside. They keeled over, seemingly defeated. 

Thanos held up the glove, gazing up at it like some sort of perverted lover. “I am, inevitable,” he growled, a smile crossing his face as he snapped his fingers.

The metal glove echoed uselessly, nothing happened. His smile melted off as he took a second look at the gauntlet, the stones were gone.

He looked over at Y/N, a sly grin spread across Y/N’s face as they held up their armored hand. The pilfered stones found their way to their proper places on Y/N’s arm, locking into place and sending wave after wave of energy through their veins.

Y/N looked over at their father, fear and anticipation plagued his tired face.

Y/N’s grin faded, “I’m sorry,” they whispered, before snapping their fingers.

* * * *

Everything was white. Blindingly white. A slight tingling sensation began in Y/N’s fingers, spreading upwards through their arm. The tingling changed into hot, searing pain. They felt as if they were being torn apart, atom by atom. 

They were going to die.

Unexpectedly, the light faded, they were back on the battlefield. Y/N looked down at their arm, glancing at the exposed skin. It was cracked and red, like sand dried by the desert sun.

They looked up, their neck aching at the slightest movement. Everyone began to dissolve.

Y/N panicked, did they mess up the snap? But no, they didn’t. 

Thanos army crumbled into dust, blowing away in the wind just like everyone did five years before.

Thanos sat onto the ground, slumped over in defeat. A bewildered expression remained on his face until he was gone, mere dust in the wind.

“No, no, no!” Tony cried, running over to Y/N’s collapsed figure, “it was supposed to be me,” he grabbed onto Y/N’s uninjured hand as he addressed Y/N’s AI, “Saturn, state condition.”

“Vitals deteriorating. Chance of survival, low,” the AI listed, almost sadly.

“Dad,” Y/N barely whispered, “don’t-” they winced, “-blame yourself.”

They could feel their strength ebbing away, they wanted nothing more than to close their eyes.

Their dad stepped aside, unable to watch Y/N’s life slowly disappear. Pepper looked at Y/N piteously, they held a hand up to their face before whispering, “it’s going to be okay.” They smiled at them lovingly before moving to comfort Tony.

Peter came over next, a triumphant smile stretching across his face, he was oblivious, but not for long.

“Mr. Stark?” he asked as he approached, “what’s-” he suddenly noticed Y/N. “Y/N, oh God, Y/N.”

“Peter,” Y/N mumbled, their voice barely more than a whisper.

“We won, Y/N!” he cheered sadly, “you did it! You did it,” he started to cry, wrapping his arms around Y/N as tears flowed down his face.

Y/N slowly lifted a trembling hand up to Peter’s face, tangling their fingers in his messy curls.

“I love you,” Y/N whispered, weakly kissing Peter before falling back, their eyes staring off into the distance.

Their hand fell limp to the ground, and as the surviving heroes began to surround Y/N, Peter let out a loud scream of anguish.

Y/N was gone.


	2. "You Had One Job!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y/N has always been content with helping her strange family (formally known as the Avengers) on missions from the safety of the tower. But now, with the secret of her and Peter's relationship weighing on her, it's been practically impossible. It all comes to a head when a mission goes wrong, and Peter is hurt in the aftermath.

It was supposed to be like ‘The Good ‘Ol Days’, the original six heading out on a mission together.

Until Y/N’s dad, Tony, decided it would be a great time to mentor his new protege, Spider-Man. AKA, the one person Y/N did not want out in the fray.

“What if he gets hurt?” Y/N asked her father as he suited up for the mission, “how long has he even been doing this?”

“Longer than you’d think,” he answered, waiting a moment before putting his mask on in order to address Y/N, “listen, we’ll keep that kid safe. I don’t know why you’re so worried-”

“Dad, you’ve never even let me go on missions!” Y/N argued, lying through her teeth as she came up with an excuse, “your own daughter! And yet you’re tossing this poor kid into this?”

“He can handle it,” Tony said before his mask enclosed on his face, his voice becoming more mechanical as the suit’s eyes lit up, “Just watch the screens, Y/N.”

“I know, I know,” Y/N groaned, “be safe.”

“When haven’t I been?” he quipped, leaving the room and heading towards the Quinjet.

Y/N cradled her head in their hands. There was only so much she could do by watching behind screens and shouting directions into the comms.

Only so many ways she could protect her boyfriend, Peter Parker.

* * * *

“Hostile on your left, Cap,” Y/N directed, noticing the camouflaged figure in the footage streaming from Tony’s suit.

“On it,” Steve responded, professionalism tinting his voice as he turned to his opponent. He slammed his shield against their helmeted head, knocking them cold in seconds.

It was a simple, but important mission. They had to flush out an old HYDRA base, one of the many remaining pockets of the dying organization. Y/N’s job was to make sure no one did anything stupid, an impossible task when it came to her weird, dysfunctional family.

She sat in front of a row of computers, headset and microphone nestled among her hair. She leaned back in an old, worn swivel chair as she stared at the glaringly bright screens. This was how she took part in missions, offering guidance and assisting from the safety of the tower.

“Kid,” Tony said to Peter, “scope out the next few rooms, stick to the ceilings.”

“Yes, sir!” Peter answered eagerly, climbing up onto the ceiling.

“Stick to the shadows, Spidey,” Y/N advised as they watched Peter crawl in plain sight. 

“Oh, right,” he chuckled awkwardly at his mistake.

“This kids lack of stealth offends me,” Clint said to Y/N privately, making sure that Peter couldn’t hear his remark.

Y/N grit her teeth, “You’re not as sneaky as you think you are, everyone hears you crawling through the vents.”

“C’mon Y/N,” he teased, “relax a little.”

Y/N took a deep breath, she couldn’t let her nerves interfere with the mission, “Sorry, sorry.”

She examined the footage from both Peter’s and Tony’s suits. Nothing out of the ordinary, if you considered the large fight that Peter had managed to get himself in ‘ordinary’.

Y/N swallowed, fear curled around her insides like a snake as she watched Peter fight off the group of armed guards.

“Somebody help Spider-Man,” she spoke into the mic, “he’s managed to get himself into trouble.”

“No! No! It’s fine, I got this,” Peter argued, trying to reassure himself. He webbed two of the thugs to the wall, only five were left. He kicked the legs out from underneath one of them, sending their gun flying across the room as they fell to the floor.

“Nat, can you help him?” Y/N asked, ignoring Peter’s request.

“Right away,” Natasha answered. Y/N watched from the perspective of Peter’s suit, letting out a sigh of relief as they spotted Natasha run in and take out a few of the guards.

Y/N continued to watch the fight, the two eventually managed to subdue the final five guards. Y/N could tell that Peter was feeling accomplished.

“Good job you two,” Y/N complimented, “anything of interest in that room?”

“No, just storage,” Nat replied, looking around and taking in the many wooden crates stacked up to the ceiling.

Y/N’s dad flew into the room, scanning the boxes for anything that could be intriguing.

“What do you see?” Y/N asked Tony.

“Weapons, chemicals, a few kevlar vests,” he listed, his suit displaying the faint outline of the objects as they lay in the crates.

Y/N turned to another screen, observing Peter’s point of view as he crawled around the ceiling, resuming her father’s previous orders.

Suddenly, a subtle movement caught Y/N’s attention. A slight rustling at the lower right-hand corner. She saw the outstretched hand, and her eyes widened once she realized what the hand was holding.

“Dad, look out!” she shouted into the mic.

Tony whirled around, but not before the guard fired their gun. The loud gunshot echoed throughout the room, and time seemed to slow as Y/N watched the bullet rapidly approach her father’s chest.

He would have been fine. His suit would’ve protected him.

But in that moment, as adrenaline coursed through Peter’s veins, he acted on instinct.

He leaped down from his position, and Y/N could only watch in silent terror as he took the shot. A strangled scream escaping her lips as the bullet embedded itself into his right arm.

Peter collapsed onto the ground, landing painfully on his injured arm.

“Oh God,” Y/N whimpered.

Tony immediately fired at the guard, they fell over onto the ground, completely limp. He rushed over to Peter, staring in shock as Peter clutched at his injured arm.

“What? What’s happening?” Thor asked from another room, his confused voice interrupting the silence that had settled over the comms.

“Karen,” Y/N calmly called on Peter’s AI, or at least she hoped she sounded calm, “relay status.”

“Severing of brachial artery, possible blood loss of 0.5 gallons. Hypovolemic shock imminent,” Karen diagnosed.

A steady stream of bright red blood spurted from the wound, already forming a puddle on the ground.

“Somebody apply pressure,” Y/N ordered, panic beginning to overpower her usual calm and collected demeanor.

Nat ran over beside Peter, kneeling next to him as she pressed two gloved hands against the wound. The pressure partially stifled the seemingly endless flow of blood.

Peter ripped off his mask with his left hand, the footage from his suit cutting out. Luckily (or unluckily) Y/N could still see him from her dads perspective.

A thin layer of sweat had already gathered on his too-pale face. He gasped desperately for air, breathing quick and fast. 

“I think shock has set in,” Y/N said obviously, voice rising an octave from fear.

“You think so?” her dad replied sarcastically, but he was worried regardless.

“We need to get him out of there. He needs to be back at the tower.” 

“I have no idea what’s happening, you guys,” Bruce interrupted, ”I don’t think I’ve done anything useful–”

“Shut up!” Y/N snapped.

“Y/N, I’m going to need you to calm down,” Tony said soothingly.

“You had one job!” Y/N yelled, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Y/N relax, please,” Tony begged, “Thor, get in here.”

The god entered the room, immediately noticing the boy who was curled up on the floor.

“Bring him back to the tower,” Tony ordered.

Thor simply answered yes, he had heard Y/N’s freak out and knew better than to argue. He picked up Peter, his head lolling back in his arms, and flew off.

“I’m signing off,” Y/N rasped, drowning in fear.

“Y/N,” Nat said pleadingly.

“Peter will need medical attention, I’ll see to it,” Y/N said defensively, not allowing anyone to speak before turning off her mic and switching off the screens.

She allowed the scream that she had been holding in to bubble to the surface, it came rushing out of her mouth in an almost primal rage. Scaring those who remained in the tower.

“Holy shit, what happened?” Sam shouted, running into the room.

“I’m fine,” Y/N sobbed, fruitlessly brushing away tears.

“Is something wrong?” Bucky inquired, following Sam into the room.

“I said, I’m fine,” Y/N said angrily.

“Did someone get hurt?” Sam asked tactlessly, Bucky nudged him less than subtly.

“Can you please leave me alone?” Y/N asked sadly. Looking up at them with watering eyes.

“C’mon,” Sam said to Bucky as he turned and left the room, leaving Y/N with her thoughts.

Y/N took a deep, calming breath in order to regain her senses. Peter and Thor would be here soon, and she couldn’t let them see her like this.

Especially not Peter.

* * * *

“Can you explain to me what happened back there?” Y/N’s father asked, crossing his arms and frowning slightly.

“I just–I just panicked,” Y/N lied meekly, sitting beside Peter as he lay unconscious on the hospital bed.

The mission had proved to be uneventful. The team had flushed out the remaining HYDRA soldiers, and had found more information on the location of more bases. Tony had filled her in once the team had returned.

Peter had only needed a blood transfusion and minimal artery repair, his incredible healing abilities did the rest. So now all Y/N had to do was wait for him to wake up from surgery. The news that he would be alright had relieved them instantly, washing away all fear and doubts like waves crashing against the shore.

“Y/N, I know you enough to be able to tell when you’re lying. You yelled at practically everyone on the team, do you want to talk?” Tony said kindly, sitting in the chair next to her.

She shifted in her seat awkwardly, choosing instead to watch Peter’s chest rise and fall as he breathed.

Tony lay a hand on her shoulder, rubbing his hand against her back comfortingly.

They sat in silence, both of them waiting patiently for Peter to regain consciousness.

Suddenly, after many minutes had passed, Peter broke into a coughing fit. The tubes attached to his arm thrashing like snakes as he convulsed.

“Get someone!” Y/N shouted at her dad, pressing the call button for good measure.

Tony rushed out of the room, calling for a nurse as he ran through the halls.

“Peter, Peter look at me,” Y/N whispered, placing a hand on his cheek.

He looked up at them, panic shining in his eyes as he stared confusedly. “Y/N what–”

“Shush, you’re fine. You’re alright. You’re safe,” she said gently, running a hand through his hair soothingly.

“I have to go, I’ve got to get back to Mr. Stark. Where-where am I?” he slurred, sitting up and trying to rip the tubes out of his arm.

“Woah, woah. Slow down, Peter,” Y/N said quietly, grabbing his hand to stop him from hurting himself. As he continued to struggle to get out of bed, Y/N connected her lips with his, calming him down immediately. He slowly sank back down into his pillows, closing his eyes drowsily. Y/N smiled and brushed his hair out of his face, pressing a kiss against his forehead protectively.

“Now I really need an explanation,” Tony interrupted angrily. The nurse he had brought with him ignored the oncoming family drama and rushed beside Peter. 

“He was messing with his drip, make sure that’s okay,” Y/N advised, ignoring her father’s request.

“Don’t ignore me, Y/N. I want an explanation, now.”

Y/N spun around to face her father, “You want an explanation? Sure. Peter and I have been dating for a year and–”

“A year!?” Tony interrupted, unable to hide his shocked expression.

“Yes, a year,” Y/N continued, “and before you ask, yes, we’ve been using protection.”

“So you’re dropping this all on my now, huh? You’ve been dating underoos, my underoos, and you’ve been having sex with him? Were you ever planning to tell me?

“Yes, and no,” Y/N said, exasperated, “and this is why! You always make a big deal out of these things!”

“I think I’m allowed to be a little peeved that you two have been fucking like rabbits around the tower-”

“Dad!”

“Is that what those noises were? I had my suspicions but-

“Dad!”

“And you were keeping it a secret!”

Y/N took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, “We were going to tell you eventually, promise. Can you please not kill him just yet? I love him.”

Tony looked like he was about to plunge into another rant, but softened after seeing the genuine sadness in his daughters eyes.

“Alright, alright. I’m glad I actually know the kid and it wasn’t some fifty year old you met at-”

“Dad, I swear to God-”

“Mr. Stark?” Peter said blearily, lifting his head up from the pillows. The nurse was still doting on him, choosing to overlook the heated argument which had just unfolded.

“Yes, kid?”

“Are they going to cut off my arm?” he said deliriously before slumping over, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the pillows.

“On second thought-” Tony began.

“He may be an idiot, but he’s my idiot,” Y/N smirked, ending the argument.

Tony sighed loudly, but he couldn’t deny the way his heart had warmed when he saw the way she had looked at Peter.


	3. You're My Safe Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How about an avenger!reader x Peter, where she is kidnapped and injured by hydra and the team saves her and Peter looks after her all protective and worried?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an old piece that I wrote almost a forever ago (how the time flies.) Hope you enjoy nonetheless!

Time meant nothing in the small, five foot by five foot cell. The plain metal walls closing in on Y/N as they curled up on the floor, nursing their wounds.

A small mistake on a mission had snowballed until catastrophe struck. One ambush later Y/N landed in their current predicament, captured by HYDRA agents and brought to…somewhere. Wherever it was, Y/N wanted out, now.

Y/N leaned back against the cool metal wall, outstretching their legs as much as the room allowed them to. They winced slightly as the bruise on their hip brushed uncomfortably against the ground, sending ripples of pain throughout their battered body. They turned their attention to their stomach, pulling up their shirt to reveal the long gash that was beginning to knit back together.

They grimaced at the sight of the wound, tugging their shirt back down to cover it. The rough fabric of the new uniform only irritated it more.

They closed their eyes and focused, channeling the regenerative energy from within them and bringing it to the surface, directing the flow to the cut. They sighed in relief as the wound began to close, their powers healing it almost instantly.

Exhaustion gripped Y/N immediately after the brief euphoria of their abilities faded, leaving them completely drained.

They collapsed back against the wall, they needed to save their energy for later.

It was only going to get worse from there.

* * * *

“Do you have any idea where they are?” Peter asked Tony desperately, watching as his mentor poured over his monitors.

“I’m trying to triangulate the last message transmitted by them, but obviously it’s not that easy,” Tony explained, staring into the bright, flashing screens. “The triangulation apparatus is being blocked by some signal reflection, most likely intentionally set up in order to prevent us from locating them.”

“You’ll be able to find them, right?” Peter swallowed nervously, looking over Tony’s shoulder at the complicated algorithms displayed on the computers.

“As soon as we’re able to bypass the precautionary measures, yes,” Tony confirmed, eliciting a less than subtle sigh of relief from Peter, “but who knows how long it will take.”

Peter’s eyes widened from the new information, fear churning in his gut as he imagined what horrors Y/N must’ve been experiencing, “h-how long?” he squeaked.

Tony looked up at Peter with tired eyes, “anything from five hours to a year, depending on the complexity.”

“A year?” Peter rasped, his legs growing unbelievably weak as the full weight of Y/N’s capture crashed down on him.

“You alright, kid?” Tony asked, rushing over as he watched Peter almost fall to the ground.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. I just-I just need to sit down,” he reassured shakily as he stumbled to the nearest chair, letting himself crumple onto the seat.

“Listen, look at me,” Tony knelt down to look Peter in the eye, “we won’t stop until we get Y/N back.”

Peter nodded unsteadily, resting his head in his hands as sobs shook his body. Tears pooled in his palms and spilled onto his lap as loud cries escaped from his lips.

If only he had been faster.

If only he hadn’t made that mistake.

If only he could hold Y/N in his arms and know they were safe. If only he could bury his face into their neck and breathe them in, feel their warmth in his grasp.

If only.

* * * *

The first few days were by far the worst.

Hours of isolation that were only interrupted by the occasional physical exam, in which Y/N was poked, cut, and injected with God knows what. Then they’d be once again exiled to their cell, left to brood in silence.

They lost track of time when they first slept. Their body’s internal clock was completely off, leaving them disoriented and confused. Eventually, days were counted by how many times they were cut open. Each time they were wheeled into another painful surgery, they recorded another day.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

This became unreliable after they began spending countless hours under the knife. Sometimes even waking up in the middle of surgery, screaming behind a gag as they watched masked doctors poke and prod at their insides.

The forced solitude slowly began to take a toll on them. It began small, a whisper of their name, flashes in their periphery vision. They even sought comfort in the sound of another’s voice, even if the source didn’t exist.

It eventually evolved into full force hallucinations. Things appearing and disappearing with no rhyme or reason. It was almost funny, all the strange things they witnessed. They had almost burst out laughing when they hallucinated a tall pile of apples with googly eyes and stick figure limbs that waved around helplessly.

It stopped being funny when they hallucinated Peter.

Y/N had woken up in their cot, blinking from a combination of the endlessly shining light and disbelief. Peter was sitting at the edge of the bed, trying to shake them awake. They sat up, tears welling up in their eyes as they believed their ordeal was over. They pulled him in for a tight embrace, crashing their lips against his in celebration. They could feel his breath against their cheek, taste the soft tang of his lips, it was all so… _real_.

It wasn’t until he had faded away, dissolving in the light, that the last bit of their hope had evaporated. Disappearing along with the comforting hallucination.

Nothing was real after that. They withdrew into themselves and gave up, resigning to their fate.

Waiting patiently for it to end.

* * * *

The two months that Y/N was captured were one of the most nerve-wracking of Peter’s life.

He couldn’t bring himself to do anything. Spending endless hours just laying in bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

Everything he saw reminded him of them. When he first got the news of their capture, he had overturned nearly everything in his room. Much to the dismay of those living below. He had managed to dig up one of Y/N’s sweaters, and would carry it around with him like a security blanket. He even refused to wash it, not wanting their smell to be washed away.

He didn’t want the small bit of them he had left to disappear.

He was laying in bed, clutching Y/N’s dirty sweater to his chest, when he got the call.

He was tempted to ignore the ringing, preferring to just lay there in silence. That was until he saw the caller ID.

He grabbed his phone and immediately accepted the call. Putting it to his ear he sputtered, “Tony, what–”

“We found Y/N. Get to the compound,” Tony interrupted, hanging up before Peter could say anything else.

Peter stared at his phone, mind running and heart pounding at the possibility of Y/N’s rescue. He had already begun to forget the small things about them, the shape of their hands, the bend of their spine, the smell of their skin and the feeling of their hair between his fingers.

He couldn’t wait to remember.

* * * *

Y/N knew that something was wrong the moment they woke up on the operating table, again. But this time was different.

There were no doctors leaning over them. No one shouting in another language before a suffocating face mask was placed onto them, sending them back into unconsciousness. Nobody.

They tugged against their metal restraints, unable to even lift their head an inch off the table. They let themselves go limp, waiting for the anesthesia to wear off and expose them to the pain of whatever the sadistic doctors had done to them.

The endless screeching of alarms bore into their head, the flashing lights bathing their bare body in red light. They could hear gunshots echoing in the distance, screams of terror and commands being shouted as _something_ came closer and closer.

Y/N grit their teeth, considering the consequences of their actions before they opened their aching jaw and screamed, or tried to. Their voice was rusty from lack of use, their cries for help merely amounting to a feeble whimper.

They coughed loudly, trying to clear their throat. “Help!” they shouted once more, slightly louder. They grimaced as stabbing pains emanated from their chest. Cool air brushed against the exposed skin, causing the wound to sting slightly.

“Help!” They yelled, voice rising in volume. They panted, panic coursing through their veins as they remained undiscovered.

Suddenly, the anesthesia wore off. Y/N’s eyes rolled back as constant waves of pain radiated from their chest. Instinct kicked in and they screamed, a raw screech that would send shivers down the spine of any sane individual.

Their vision clouded as pain took over, pushing them to the edge of oblivion. They squeezed their eyes shut, trying to breathe past the agony through tightly clenched lips.

“Y/N?” a voice whispered. Their eyes flew open, searching the room.

_Stupid,_ they reprimanded themselves, _it’s not real._

“Y/N, oh god, Y/N,” the voice sounded panicked, and Y/N could hear the soft sound of someone approaching. Something fumbled with the restraints, managing to unlock the tight metal cuffs.

Y/N rotated their wrists, enjoying the newfound movement. They looked up at their savior and the blood drained from their face.

It was Peter, wearing his Spider-Man getup. He ripped off his mask as he stood above them. Y/N allowed themselves to drink in his features. He looked as handsome as ever. His soft curls silhouetted his angled face, his thin lips were tightly pursed in concern. But something was different. His eyes were sunken in, darkened from nights of little sleep. His skin was ghostly pale, and the flashing red lights certainly didn’t help. But it was Peter, or at least it looked like him.

Y/N smiled weakly, tears sliding down their cheeks as they looked up at the love of their life.

“It’s okay. Y/N, it’s okay,” Peter reassured, voice shaking with held back tears. He cupped their face with his hands, brushing their tears away with his thumbs.

Y/N leaned into his touch, closing their eyes in silent bliss.

“I’m going to get you out of here,” he began to lift Y/N off the table.

“No, no!” Y/N whimpered.

“Sorry!” he apologized, suddenly noticing Y/N’s opened chest cavity, “we need to get this closed, can you heal it?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Y/N took a shuddering breath, “this isn’t real.”

“What?” Peter asked confusedly.

“I’ve-I’ve hallucinated you before. You’re not here. You’re just not,” they smiled weakly, cringing as their wound twinged slightly.

“Y/N no, this is real–” he said pleadingly.

“You said that before,” Y/N interrupted, tears flowing without end, “I thought I was going to be rescued.”

“Please, Y/N please,” Peter begged, grabbing Y/N’s hand and squeezing it tightly, “I promise you, this is real.”

Y/N stared up at him, they nodded reluctantly as they commanded their body to heal itself.

“I’m going to get you someplace safe,” Peter promised.

Y/N grabbed some discarded scrubs and slipped them on, leaning onto Peter for support. 

After Y/N had dressed, Peter pulled on his mask and lifted them up into his arms. Running out of the room he shouted into the comms, “I’ve found them, I’m heading to the jet.”

Y/N buried their face into Peter’s neck, murmuring something into the fabric of his suit.

“Hmm?” Peter intoned, swinging through the base.

“ **You’re my safe place** ,” Y/N said again, slightly louder.

Peter smiled inside his suit, finally feeling true happiness for the first time in months.

Y/N grinned as well, nuzzling against Peter as they felt some semblance of safety.

Peter was solid.

Peter was warm.

Peter was real.

As they slipped into unconsciousness, they did so with a smile.

* * * *

Y/N woke up in another hospital bed. They sat up, ripping the tubes out of their arms as they looked around in a panic. They swung their legs out from the bed, and were about to run before they were pulled into a tight embrace.

“Shush, it’s me,” Peter said softly, running his hand through their hair.

“I can’t-no-stop,” they rasped, flashing back to every time they were forced into surgery.

“You’re safe, I’m here,” he whispered, rocking Y/N slightly as they sobbed into his shoulder.

“It hurts,” they mumbled, calming down in Peter’s arms.

“I know, I know,” Peter said soothingly.

“Please,” they begged, “stay.”

“Yes, of course,” he reassured them, kissing their forehead gently. He rubbed their back methodically, relaxing them as they leaned into his chest.

They sat like that for hours, Peter gently lulling Y/N to sleep. Eventually, he slowly lay them back onto the bed, lovingly pulling the bed sheets to their chin. Y/N shifted slightly, clutching their knees to their stomach. Peter smiled and smoothed Y/N’s hair back, kissing them on the cheek before sitting back in his chair.

“Love you,” he said quietly.

“Love you too,” Y/N slurred, opening their eyes drowsily.

He smiled slightly and caressed their cheek, “get some sleep, you need it.”

Y/N nodded tiredly, drifting back down almost immediately.

He could hardly believe they were back. He wouldn’t let them be hurt again.

Ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed!


	4. How Can A Kiss Hurt So Much?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What about if Peter and the reader have a rough mission where they pretended to date and come home and recover together?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This oneshot is from a while ago, but I hope you enjoy!

Peter lowered Y/N onto the couch, grateful that he no longer had to carry her. They were finally safe, hidden in one of the many safehouses riddled throughout the city. The mission had taken a turn for the worst, their cover as Mr. and Mrs. Peterson completely blown, and Y/N had taken the fall. And the fall was painful.

“Peter,” Y/N groaned, turning her head in order to look up at him. A dark bruise mottled the skin around her eye, and a gash on her forehead sluggishly spilled blood down her face. “Peter, take off my heels.”

Peter blinked confusedly, not moving.

“Peter, _please._ ”

“Oh, yeah,” he said dumbly. Slipping off the shoes with shaking hands and tossing them across the room.

Y/N groaned in delight as she flexed her toes, “fucking finally.”

“You were literally shot, and that’s what you wanted me to do first?”

“You weren’t the one fighting in heels,” Y/N shot back, wincing as she aggravated the wound in her shoulder.

“Hey, just relax, let me help with that,” Peter said appeasingly, grabbing the med kit from the bathroom.

He squatted beside her with the open kit, gently moving aside the strap of her dress to access the wound. The bullet had hit her shoulder, embedding itself in the flesh.

“This is going to hurt,” Peter warned.

“Yeah, no shit,” Y/N snapped. Squeezing her eyes shut and gritting her teeth as Peter approached the cut, tweezers in hand.

“On three. One. Two. Three,” Peter plunged the tweezers into the wound, rooting around for the remains of the bullet.

“Got it!” he exclaimed, the metal clenched tightly in the tweezers. He gingerly pulled the foreign object out and dropped it onto the coffee table. Blood spurted out of the cut and dribbled down her front, staining her dress.

“Sorry,” he apologized, grabbing the gauze and medical tape in order to dress the wound.

“Don’t apologize, Peter,” Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes.

“But it’s my fault!” He shouted. Y/N started, flinching away from Peter as he applied pressure to her shoulder. “Sorry, just stay still.”

“I chose to take that bullet!” Y/N yelled back, “if you hadn’t blown our cover by refusing to kiss me, then–”

“Don’t change the subject. I could’ve handled it!” he retaliated, pressing with a little more force than necessary onto the bullet wound.

“The bullet was aimed at your head, and I intercepted it in the shoulder. Which is more fatal? Enlighten me.” Y/N argued.

“You could’ve pushed me out of the way! You didn’t need to endanger yourself.”

“In the moment, it was the quickest possible action.”

“Y/N–why do you–agh!” he screamed, “I don’t want you to die! You just…can’t,” he finished weakly.

“Peter,” Y/N whispered, reaching out towards him.

“Let me help you to the bed, I’ll take the couch. Don’t argue,” he said, noticing the look of indignation in Y/N’s eyes. He slung her arm over his shoulder and helped carry her to the bedroom, ignoring the glare Y/N directed right at him.

Why did that glare have to hurt so much?

* * *

Morning arrived, and their argument still hadn’t been resolved. It was especially clear that Y/N still harbored some resentment when she stormed into the kitchen and aggressively poured herself a bowl of cereal.

Peter leaned against the countertop, standing adjacent to the table where Y/N sat. He awkwardly sipped from his glass of orange juice, avoiding Y/N’s angry stare.

Finishing the bowl of cereal, Y/N slammed the dish into the sink, the loud clang echoing obnoxiously throughout the safehouse. Peter flinched, keeping his gaze fixed on the floor tiles.

“Are you going to say anything?” Y/N said suddenly, turning away from the sink in order to face him.

Peter shuffled uncomfortably, wilting beneath her judging glare.

“Peter. We need to talk,” Y/N whispered, her angry tone shifting into a more pleading one.

“What is there to talk about?” He said quietly.

“The mission, the argument, there’s a lot we need to discuss,” Y/N listed, walking over to Peter and pulling herself onto the countertop.

“Y/N, let’s just move past this,” Peter begged, looking up at her desperately.

Y/N took a deep breath, looking down at Peter from the countertop, “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t understand how upset you were yesterday. If our situations were reversed, I’d probably be just as mad.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Peter apologized, “I shouldn’t have been so rude, no matter how I felt about the situation.”

Y/N nodded in understanding, smiling warmly at Peter as they rested in comfortable silence.

Peter’s heart twisted painfully as he looked up at Y/N, her eyes crinkled adorably as she beamed at him. He had lost count of the times he had stared into her E/C eyes, lost count of the time he traced the shape of her lips with his eyes. He could probably sculpt her face from memory. Every perfect imperfection, every mark and scar. Her image was ingrained in his mind, appearing teasingly in his dreams and saving him from nightmares.

If he had any courage he would cup her face in his hands, bring his lips to hers and–

“Peter? You there?” Y/N unknowingly interrupted, waving her hand in front of his face jokingly.

“How’s your shoulder?” he asked, trying to distract Y/N from his recent daydreaming.

“Better. Thanks for treating it last night,” Y/N said, stretching her injured shoulder as she spoke.

Peter nodded, setting his unfinished drink on the counter.

“Do you know when the team’s coming to get us?” Y/N asked, stealing Peter’s glass of orange juice and downing the remaining liquid.

“Hey!” Peter whined, grabbing for the glass half-heartedly. Y/N chuckled and handed him the empty cup. “They’re coming tomorrow,” he answered the question.

“Let’s take advantage of the free food then!” She cheered, jumping down from the countertop and practically skipping over to the refrigerator.

Peter shook his head and smiled. God, he was fucked.

* * *

Hours later, Y/N and Peter were curled up on the couch. Buried beneath a blanket as they watched Y/N’s favorite film. The coffee table was littered with empty bags and crumbs, evidence of the two’s snack binge.

“‘m hungry,” Y/N slurred, leaning her head against Peter’s chest.

“Still?” Peter teased, praying that she couldn’t hear the fast beat of his heart.

“Yes,” Y/N pouted, closing their eyes as they nuzzled into his shirt, “also, I’m tired.”

“You’re hopeless,” Peter joked, ruffling Y/N’s hair.

“Y’know, I was wondering,” Y/N sat up, suddenly serious, “why didn’t you kiss me during the mission?”

“W-What?” Peter stuttered, “where did this come from?”

“I mean, I understand if you didn’t want to. But we were doing fine pretending to be a couple until–”

“I just…I couldn’t. I’m sorry,” Peter apologized, his heart aching at the poorly hidden look of hurt in Y/N’s eyes.

Uncomfortable silence settled between them. Sensing the discomfort, Y/N moved away, sitting on the far side of the couch.

“The thing is–” Peter began hesitantly “–it hurt.”

“It…hurt?” Y/N repeated, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“It hurt that it wasn’t real. That the kisses, and the looks, and the nicknames were just an act. That you would never say that normally. God, Y/N, do I have to spell it out for you? The achy feeling in my chest whenever you look at me? How my heart feels like it’s going to burst out of my ribcage? I just want to scream from the rooftops ‘I love Y/N Y/L/N!’ but I can’t. And oh, God, I’m rambling. I’ll just stop now, I’m sorry. I ruined everything. I’m–”

Peter’s eyes widened as he felt Y/N’s soft lips against his own. One hand resting on his cheek and the other tangled in his hair.

It was better than he imagined. Soft, warm, the sweet tang of her chapstick and the scent of shampoo overwhelming his heightened senses. 

Her fingers tightened in his hair, tugging slightly as she deepened the kiss. A groan reverberated in his throat, and he could feel her lips upturn at the sound. 

“Is this…okay?” Y/N asked pulling back from the kiss.

“Did you not hear what I just said?” Peter whispered jokingly.

Y/N smiled widely before she dove back in. Her lips catching his perfectly, like matching puzzle pieces. Her tongue swiped the seam of his lips and he parted them, allowing her tongue to slip inside, both of their tongues joining together in a languid dance.

After an eternity, they separated. Spit-slick and puffy lips moved in Peter’s vision as he blinked slowly, the fuzzy feeling in his head slowly subsiding.

“What?” he mumbled.

Y/N rolled her eyes fondly, “I love you, Peter Parker.”

“Really?” he said in disbelief.

“I would’ve thought the makeout session would be enough evidence, but yes.”

“I love you too, Y/N.”

“Hey, I listened to what you said,” Y/N teased before throwing herself into Peter’s arms once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed!


	5. Live for the Thrill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> reader x Peter Parker where they go to an amusement park, and the reader is super excited to ride the biggest and fastest rides and Peter doesn’t have the heart to tell them he’s terrified of roller coasters?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy!

Peter had always hated rollercoasters, even before the spider bite.

Sure, being so high up wasn’t the greatest, nor were the rocketing speeds. But it was the lack of control that he despised. Careening down a track, stuck in a metal cart and completely strapped in. Just the thought of it made him break out in a sweat.

Things got even worse after he was bitten. His enhanced senses were great for crime fighting, not so great for everyday life. Every little thing was intensified, and there was no off switch.

So, like a cherry atop a very unpleasant sundae, Peter’s spidey senses made the whole rollercoaster experience that much worse. The joyous screams sounding more like a jackhammer. The rumblings and screeching of the coaster grating painfully against his ears. The sweat slick seats rubbing against him like sandpaper.

It would be easy enough to just avoid them for the rest of his life, if not for Y/N.

Y/N lived for rollercoasters. They were practically the physical embodiment of adrenaline junkie. Always rushing to the fastest, tallest, scariest ones they saw. Exiting the ride with their face flushed and hair wind blown, eyes shining with mad glee as they cheered about the coaster they were just on.

Frankly, it was adorable.

Y/N never pressured him to go with them. They would only ask him once, and always respected his answer. That’s one of the reasons he loved them. But for Peter, he was embarrassed every time he declined, even if Y/N didn’t seem to mind. He was Spider-Man, he was supposed to be absolutely fearless! Superheroes didn’t get scared! Especially not of silly things like rollercoasters.

So the next time Y/N asked if he wanted to go with them, he–very bravely, by the way!–said yes. Y/N seemed surprised by his answer, but they just smiled and grabbed him by the hand, leading him into the line.

Peter immediately regretted his decision. Of course he had to choose to go on a ride that went _straight down._ He clutched Y/N’s hand until his knuckles went white, palms growing sweaty as his anxiety increased. Y/N squeezed his hand comfortingly, sending him a soft smile as they sensed his nervousness. He squeezed their hand in return, feeling a bit of the nervousness fade away. God, what did he do to deserve Y/N?

Slowly but surely, they got closer to the front of the line. Y/N was practically vibrating with excitement, a wide grin spreading across their face every time they took a step forward. Peter, on the other hand, couldn’t be more different. He felt like he was walking to the gallows, and each time the coaster roared by he would suppress a wince.

He thought he was hiding his fear perfectly, but Y/N knew their boyfriend too well to believe the charade.

“Are you okay?” they asked quietly. Looking to him not in concern, but with understanding. “We don’t have to go on if you don’t want to.”

“N-no!” he protested lamely, “I do want to go!”

Y/N fixed him with a searching look, head tilted slightly to the side, “Peter, its okay to be afraid,” they leaned in closer, “do you want to hear a secret?” Peter nodded. Y/N smiled and whispered into his ear, “I’m scared too.”

“Really?” he asked disbelievingly.

“Really,” Y/N nodded, a gentle smile pulling at their lips. “So, are you sure you want to go?”

Peter looked over at the coaster, they were up next. He turned back to Y/N and answered honestly, “let’s do something else.”

“Bumper cars?” Y/N asked joyfully, eyes sparkling with childlike excitement.

“Hell yeah,” Peter answered, a goofy smile spreading across his face. Y/N squealed, pulling Peter in for a quick kiss before dragging him along to the bumper cars.

Peter grinned dumbly, licking the faded taste of cotton candy off his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment or kudos if you enjoyed!


End file.
